


appetency

by tastycornflake



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ? - Freeform, Confessions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Pining Miya Atsumu, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastycornflake/pseuds/tastycornflake
Summary: “Hey Tsum-Tsum, you’ve sure been looking at Omi-kun a lot lately!” Bokuto commented, bright as ever.Atsumu paused, blinked, then restarted.Oh God, he thought. Had he been obvious enough that Bokuto, of all people, had noticed? Atsumu was going to have an aneurysm. He had been aware of his own feelings for Sakusa for a while now, but as long as he didn’t look them in the eye, or acknowledge them at all, really, then he was fine. But if Bokuto had noticed, then what ifSakusahad noticed too? If Sakusa looked at him and said “Ew,” in that prickly way of his in response to Atsumu’s feelings, it might obliterate him on the spot.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 656





	appetency

“Hey Tsum-Tsum, you’ve sure been looking at Omi-kun a lot lately!” Bokuto commented, bright as ever.

Atsumu paused, blinked, then restarted. _Oh God_ , he thought. Had he been obvious enough that Bokuto, of all people, had noticed? Atsumu was going to have an aneurysm. He had been aware of his own feelings for Sakusa for a while now, but as long as he didn’t look them in the eye, or acknowledge them at all, really, then he was fine. But if Bokuto had noticed, then what if _Sakusa_ had noticed too? If Sakusa looked at him and said “Ew,” in that prickly way of his in response to Atsumu’s feelings, it might obliterate him on the spot.

“Haha, Bokkun, ya say the weirdest things! I look at all our spikers the same, don’t be gettin’ jealous now!” Atsumu deflected with a cheeriness he didn’t feel.

“Oh, okay...” Bokuto looked contemplative for a moment, then it passed. Before Bokuto could ruin Atsumu’s life any further, a _ping!_ from his bag caught his attention and he was back to his beaming self. “It’s Akaashi! I’m gonna get going now, Tsum-Tsum, see you at next practice!” Instead of texting back like a normal person, Bokuto immediately dialled Akaashi’s number and flounced out of the changing room with a smile on his face.

Atsumu let his head thud against his cubby and let out a drawn-out sigh. He didn’t have the motivation to get dressed and go home anymore, because going home meant he would have no distractions from his own thoughts and too much time to stew in them. He’d been doing just fine until Bokuto grabbed him by the chin and forced him to make eye-contact with his crush on Sakusa. It didn’t help that Bokuto himself was in a happy, gay relationship of his own, because that meant he was losing to Bokuto, and that stung his pride more than he would like to admit.

Reluctantly, Atsumu finished changing and gathered up his things, muttering half-hearted goodbyes to the last few people in the changing room. On the train, he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, not registering anything he saw. He could feel the rapidly growing urge to throw himself a pity party over his unrequited crush start to overflow, and he tapped more aggressively at the screen of his phone to delay the inevitable. When the train announced his stop, he tore his tangled earphones out of his bag and plugged them in, opting to hold his phone by his chest instead of detangling them for length. Atsumu clicked play on the first song he landed on and cranked the volume up high, speed-walking to nearly twice the tempo of the song as he exited the station. By the time he made it home, he was buzzing under his skin. His bag and phone were dropped in the entryway, and he barely bothered to kick his shoes off into a pile before collapsing face-first onto the couch. Atsumu let out a wailing groan into the cushions for a solid number of seconds, then flipped himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

A mix of embarrassment at nearly having his crush outed and despair over the hopelessness of said crush overwhelmed him anew, and Atsumu rolled over onto his side as he buried his face into his hands. Barely anything in Atsumu’s interactions with Sakusa even remotely suggested that Sakusa tolerated his presence, let alone liked him back. That was the reason he didn’t want to admit his feelings to himself, but now that he’d started thinking about it, it was impossible to stop. Despite the wave of negativity that rolled through his body, Atsumu soon felt a small grin tugging at his lips as he involuntarily filled with fondness. Usually, he’d ignore it through sheer force of willpower until it settled, but for the first time Atsumu found himself giddy with the affection that bubbled up whenever he thought about Sakusa. Bokuto’s question had somehow opened the floodgates, and the countless nights he’d spent coming up with reasons why he didn’t actually like Sakusa blew away to dust. With his hands still over his face, he could feel his cheeks start to heat up. There were so many things he liked about Sakusa, prickly personality and all, and he wouldn’t change a thing if he could.

 _Well,_ Atsumu thought sourly, _I’d change him so he’d like me back_. And with that, Atsumu’s good mood evaporated. Sighing, he dropped his hands to his sides. It wasn’t nearly as fun to wallow when there was no one around to take pity on him, and immediately he heard Osamu’s voice in his head taunting him for being miserable. This pissed Atsumu off more than anything, so he flung himself off the couch and into the bathroom, going straight for the cleaning supplies he kept in the cupboards. He needed to channel his aggression into something, and the first thing that came to mind while thinking about Sakusa was to deep-clean his apartment. Go figure.

\--

The rest of the week passed by in a similar manner, and so did the following week. Atsumu would spend practice trying not to steal glances at Sakusa, then simply trying not to get _caught_ stealing glances at Sakusa, and he burned off his frenzied energy by scrubbing at the bathroom tiles. If Sakusa quietly pumped his fist after a good spike, then Atsumu frantically vacuumed his apartment in the evening. If Sakusa returned one of his glances from across the court, then Atsumu would disinfect his entire kitchen. The constant up-and-down of his emotions was wearing him out, and his teammates were beginning to notice.

Firstly, he’d started declining the team’s invitations to hang out after practice with flimsy excuses, which raised a few eyebrows. It wasn’t Atsumu’s fault that he was suddenly possessed with the need to sterilize his apartment deeply enough to rival a hospital in order to cope, but he didn’t tell them that. During practice, Atsumu was hyper-aware of Sakusa’s every move, and this distracted him to no end. He’d been called out multiple times for zoning out, which started out as jokes at his expense but soon turned into not-so-subtle are-you-okay’s from Thomas and Inunaki. Hinata and Bokuto tried to rope him into lively conversations like they usually did, but Atsumu’s laughter would come a beat too late. Despite being in peak physical condition, he tired noticeably faster on and off the court, and Meian took him aside to ask if everything was alright in his personal life. Which it wasn’t, but Atsumu didn’t tell him that, either. Volleyball was still fun. Sometimes it was almost too fun, with Sakusa on his side, and Atsumu would cheer and preen and boast. Then Sakusa would call him obnoxious, and he’d stand listlessly in a corner practicing sets by himself for half an hour. Other times, he’d get so worked up thinking about Sakusa’s bendy wrists and the moles above his eyebrow that all his serves during serving drills landed out of bounds.

It was on the fifth week of Atsumu’s gay panic that things finally came to a head. He finished changing and hiked his bag over his shoulder, ready to head home. He thought he hadn’t done a bad job at covering his own ass today, since Meian didn’t give him a pitying pat on the back after practice and Hinata didn’t offer to buy him a consolatory meat bun the moment he saw him in the changing room, but apparently this was not the case. Atsumu was thinking about dinner while checking his phone with one hand when Sakusa stopped him at the building’s exit. 

“Hey.”

Atsumu looked up from his phone. “Oh hey, Omi-kun, what’s up? Ya usually leave right after practice.”

“What’s wrong with you,” Sakusa asked, without any inflection and cutting straight to the point. “You’ve been acting weirder than usual. You better not space out during a game.”

Atsumu’s heart beat faster, but he schooled his features into mock offence and tried to play it off. “Ouch, Omi-Omi, and here I thought ya were concerned about me for a second. ‘Course it woulda just been a warning about our games.” He waved a hand in the air between them and begin to take a step toward the door. “I’ll be fine.”

Sakusa took half a step toward Atsumu from where he was leaning against the wall, blocking the way. Atsumu moved his upper body back out of instinct, blinking at Sakusa in surprise. It was hard to read his expression with the face mask on, but it wasn’t made any easier when Sakusa unhooked one side of the face mask from behind his ear. Atsumu’s brain turned to static as Sakusa narrowed his eyes at him.

“No, really. What’s wrong,” Sakusa persisted.

Atsumu swallowed, throat dry. “Omi-kun?”

“I know I usually laugh at you when you mess up, but you haven’t been focusing during practice and that’s not like you. Tell me,” Sakusa said. His eyes held contact with Atsumu’s, searching for an answer. Sakusa’s naturally dark eyes were all the more intense with intent behind them.

Atsumu thought he looked beautiful.

“I’m in love with someone I don’t have a chance with,” Atsumu finally said, as wistfully as he could allow himself. “I won’t let it affect my play anymore so don’tcha worry yer pretty little head over it, Omi-Omi.”

There was a pause, then: “Hm,” Sakusa responded, flat as ever. “Is that so.”

Atsumu let out a bitter laugh. “Yup, I just needa get over myself, that’s all.” He could feel the urge to cry welling up in his throat, but that was ridiculous because Miya Atsumu did not cry over men with perfectly aligned moles, no matter how good they were at volleyball. “See ya.” Thinking that was the end of the conversation, Atsumu made to exit the door one more time.

Sakusa’s next words stopped him in his tracks. “Is it me?”

His voice was quiet, but they turned Atsumu’s blood to ice in an instant. Sakusa was still staring at Atsumu, so there was no way he missed the way Atsumu’s face froze like a deer in headlights. The buzzing of static in Atsumu’s ears rang louder than ever, and he mentally stumbled down two flights of stairs. Too taken off guard, Atsumu missed the window of opportunity to summon up a laugh and play things off.

“So it is. You’re not subtle,” Sakusa said, leaning back against the wall. He looked like he always did, casual and slightly like the world had personally inconvenienced him. “Being in love explains the spaciness, but it doesn’t explain all your staring at me unless it was me you are in love with. I thought I did something to actually offend you.”

Atsumu’s brain was too scrambled to come up with a reply, so all that came out was a pathetic choking sound that ended in a whine.

“You’re wrong, actually.” Sakusa continued, like Atsumu’s world wasn’t crumbling down around him. “It amuses me how fragile your ego is, for someone who acts so self-assured.” He was smiling, slightly. Soft and gentle and genuine, not smug or competitive like Atsumu was used to seeing directed at him, or in general.

Atsumu’s brain kicked into gear, only to get stuck on a loop. _He’s smilin’, he’s smilin’, he’s smilin’—_

A touch on his wrist startled Atsumu back into himself. He looked down, and there was Sakusa’s bare hand, loosely encircling his bare wrist. Hope sprang from that light touch, up his arm, and into his chest where it burst, vibrant and _alive._

“I’m serious, you know. It’s all or nothing for me.” Sakusa murmured.

“Yes. Yes,” Atsumu said, breathless. “I want that. I want _this_ ,” he said in a rush. “If you’ll have me, Omi-kun, I promise you anything.” Sakusa’s hand trailed down to his, and Atsumu intertwined their fingers with all the affection he could muster.

Sakusa smiled, real and fully. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the majority of this fic after waking up in fever pitch at 5am one night. the sakuatsu brain rot is REAL


End file.
